Asking Questions
by ParagonDreams
Summary: A muggle-born named Alan Burnes finds himself drawn into the world of magic when he receives an invitation to the American Academy of Mysticism and Enchantment. Strangely what confuses him is exactly how far magic has failed to come... Currently has absolutely nothing to do with Hogwarts, the trio or the next generation. Plans for the Triwizard Tournament further down the line.


Alan Burnes, until recently, was a perfectly ordinary kid. He began every day with a perfectly ordinary breakfast, went to a perfectly ordinary school, and came home to a perfectly ordinary house at the end of the day, where he would do perfectly ordinary things until he had to sleep in his perfectly ordinary bed, only to do the whole perfectly ordinary mess again the next day.

Perfectly ordinary, however, had recently been thrown out the window to be replaced by a snowy owl with a letter bound to its leg. The letter in question was not read, but heard, as it had folded itself into a reasonable facsimile of a face as soon as it had been opened, levitated four feet in the air, and begun to speak to everyone within earshot as though it too were perfectly ordinary.

"To Mr. Alan Burnes," the letter began to the bewilderment of the entire Burnes family. "You are hereby invited to study at the American Academy of Mysticism and Enchantment. As you are a muggle-born wizard, certain concessions will be made to help you acclimate to the magical environment. Firstly you may expect the company of an Academy Prefect at one in the afternoon this Saturday. It is their job to answer any and all questions about magic, the Academy, and the American Wizarding Community, and to help you purchase your necessary supplies if necessary. Secondly, your academy issued items will be presented only if you accept the invitation. Third, should you decline this invitation, an Auror of the American Enchantment Administration will modify your memories in accordance with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Sincerely, Dean Jacob Landon."

Promptly following this distinctly not ordinary display, the letter reversed its origami, neatly folded itself, and fell to the floor with a soft tap, where it remained until Alan's father, Michael Burnes, drew the courage to poke it tentatively with a barbeque fork.

At one o'clock on Saturday, the Burnes were all waiting patiently in the dining room for the doorbell to chime. Alan's parents were understandably nervous, but Alan was eager. As long as there hadn't been some kind of mistake or cruel prank, he was magic. He'd spent his entire childhood immersed in fantasy novels. Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, Artemis Fowl, all favorites. The thought that he might soon hold a magic wand of his very own was tantalizing.

Not so promptly at eleven past the hour, a sound like a firecracker echoed throughout the house, shortly followed by the chiming of the door bell. Alan was ready to sprint to the door, but his mother, Sarah, placed a firm hand on his shoulder as he rose from the table. She strode through the living room and opened the door to a teenager with dandelion yellow hair, dressed in black from head to toe, save for the orange pinstripes down the arms of his coat and a distinctive orange badge pinned to his collar.

"Is this the Burnes residence?" He asked, pleasantly.

"Erm, yes" Sarah replied uneasily.

"Excellent!" said the yellow headed teen. "My name is Gavin Freemont, I represent the Academy. I'm here about Alan."

"What do you want with my son?" Sarah asked, clearly uneasy.

"He's been invited to the Academy. You know, to learn magic? Didn't you read the letter?" asked Gavin.

"Not in so many words," Sarah replied.

"Ah right... they're using the modified howlers now." Gavin said. "A little disconcerting I imagine, but we were having a lot of problems with muggles not believing the letters."

"Muggle?" she asked.

"Non-wizards like yourself. Shall we continue this discussion inside?" Gavin asked. Sarah looked for a moment like she was going to refuse, or shut the door in the boy's face. After a few tense moments however, she relented and allowed the visitor inside.

"You must be Alan!" he said as Sarah lead him into the dining room. "Shall we get this show on the road?" He pulled up a chair across from Alan. "I'm an open book, kid." he said brightly. "What do you want to know?"

Alan began with the most obvious question he could think of. "How am I magic?"

"No idea," Gavin replied, casually tapping his empty water glass with a twig. "Its usually hereditary, but magic turns up in muggle families all the time. All I know is that the Dean's gizmos say you're magic, so you must be magic."

"But I've never done anything magical in my life!" Alan replied, unsure as to why he was protesting.

"You sure?" Gavin said, taking a sip from his no longer empty glass of water. "Never made anything happen that you couldn't explain?"

"Never." Alan said, a sinking feeling developing in his stomach. Perhaps it was all a mistake, or some kind of cruel joke.

"Don't worry about it kid," Gavin said. "Lots of kids don't."

"You sure?" Alan said.

"Positive. If it makes you feel better, I could probably give you some proof though."

"What kind of proof?" Sarah said, growing uneasy.

"Just a demonstration," Gavin said, tapping his water glass with the twig again. "Technically I'm not supposed to, but I can teach him a simple charm to try out right here."

"What kind of charm?" Michael said, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Mending charm." Gavin said with a grin. The empty glass rose into the air to the family's astonishment, as the prefect guided it toward the ceiling. A moment later, it fell back to the table and shattered.

"How dare you!?" Sarah barked.

"Well we needed something to mend didn't we?" Gavin defended. "And besides, if he can't fix it, I can." He handed the twig he'd been tapping the glass with to Alan across the table.

"Now this might be a little hard, since it's not your wand, but I think you can manage it." He picked up a butter knife from the table settings. "Now hold it like so," he said, demonstrating. "A little firmer... there ya go. Now the motion is simple. You just have to sort of nod the tip toward the target." Again he demonstrated, producing a sort of tapping motion with the blunt tip of the blade. Alan concentrated on the motion, barely daring to believe he might be performing magic in just a few moments. "Perfect. Now set the wand down a moment and practice the incantation." Alan set down the wooden rod carefully, like the slightest impact might shatter it into bits. "Repeat after me," Gavin said. "Reparo."

"Repairo?" Alan tried.

"Not quite, a bit shorter on the A."

"R'paro." Alan tried again.

"Almost," Gavin said. "Enunciate. Again."

"Reparo."

"There ya go. Again."

"Reparo!"

"Once more!"

"Reparo!"

"All right, you've got it. Now pick up the wand and put them together." Gavin said. Alan tenderly gripped the wand, carefully adjusting his grip. He raised it, trembling, over the shards. He stilled his hand as best he could, made the motion and said:

"Reparo!"

The glass shards zipped across the table, and reassembled themselves perfectly. Sitting on the table, the glass was as if it had never broken.

"Holy crap I'm a wizard," Alan gawked, dumbfounded.

"I'll say," Gavin said, "I've never seen someone get it on the first try! Took me at least a dozen when I was your age."

"So all wizards start learning at thirteen?" Michael asked, relaxing a bit and indulging his curiosity.

"Not all of them," Gavin said. "We start at thirteen in the US, but its all over the place elsewhere. England starts people off as early as eleven, I think it might be about fourteen for japan, but they do the basics at home before they go to school."

"Why so late then?" Michael asked.

"It used to be all over the place," Gavin continued. "The Academy's only been established for fifty years or so. America used to have a hodge podge of smaller schools all over the place. I'm pretty sure thirteen was the average."

"Where is the Academy?" Sarah asked with thinly veiled concern.

"Dunno," Gavin replied calmly. "It's unplottable like every other magic school these days."

"Unplottable?"

"It's enchanted so its impossible to find it on a map. The only way to get to the school is via the Everail."

"Everail?" Alan asked.

"It's a subway system that connects all the wizarding communities in America. You have to get a ticket from school faculty to get to the Academy." Gavin said.

"Can I go to these places from the school?" Alan asked, excited at the prospect of seeing magic all over the country.

"Sorry, but no. You can't even get the permission slip you'd need your folks to sign until you're fifteen."

"Damn," Alan swore. His mother flicked his ear.

"Language, Alan." She said, followed by, "I assume this is some kind of boarding school then?"

"That's right," Gavin said. "He'll be staying in a dorm for the academic year, but he's free to come back for winter break."

"And what kind of tuition are we looking at?" Michael asked. The family was not poor by any standards, but they weren't exactly wealthy either.

"Not a dime," Gavin said. "The school has a number of wealthy benefactors, so we don't have to charge the students for anything. Even the food is covered, though most students prefer to avoid it."

"Why?" Alan asked.

"Because most of it tastes like cardboard."

"How do the students avoid the school food then?"

"The school has a kind of micro-economy. Basically the students started setting up businesses in unused classrooms when they had free time and it caught on. You can usually get decent groceries, and the dorms all have their own kitchens." Gavin said.

"That's kind of impressive," Michael said. "And the faculty allows it?"

"So long as the don't try to sell any banned items, yeah. They even put a universal free period at the end of the day to accommodate business, so students wouldn't cut class." Gavin said.

"Wait, how big is this school?" Alan asked. "How many unused classrooms could there possibly be?"

"Honestly," Gavin said. "Nobody knows. From the outside it looks about four stories tall and about as wide as a stadium, but whoever built the place before it was discovered put a ridiculous amount of space altering magic on it. Only the top twelve floors have been fully mapped and explored, and they've each got a couple of square miles to them."

"Seriously?" Sarah asked. "How do you know it's even safe where you haven't explored?'

"We don't." Gavin said. "All the classes get taught in the top four floors, and any experimentation by the more advanced students or faculty is restricted to the seventh floor from the top. Any floor lower than that, explored or not, is restricted."

"I've heard enough." Sarah said. "There is no way Alan's setting one foot in that mad house."

"With all due respect, its not your decision Mrs. Burnes." the prefect said.

"The hell its not! He's my son!" she protested.

"This decision will affect him for the rest of his life," Gavin explained. "Either he learns to be a wizard or he forgets about magic entirely."

"But he's my son!" she protested again.

"Being a wizard will not change that Mrs. Burnes. The fact of the matter is that this decision is entirely out of your hands. The only one who can say yes or no is your son." Gavin replied, trying to coax her back to rational thought.

"Then he says no!" she said, with all the calm understanding of a broken record.

"Don't put words in the boy's mouth Sarah!" Mr. Burnes replied.

"Michael?" Sarah asked, looking as if she'd been slapped across the face.

"You heard him." Michael said, calmly. "It's Alan's decision."

"But-" Sarah began.

"I'm not going to be a little kid forever, Mom." Alan said, looking into her eyes. "I'm accepting. I want to learn magic at the Academy."

Sarah gawked at her son for a few moments, open mouthed and stunned like a beached fish.

"But you're not supposed to leave yet," she whimpered. "I'm not ready."

Alan put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "It'll be alright mom," he said. "I'll write every week! And in two years, I'll be able to come back now and again!" Sarah smiled, but did not look particularly reassured.

"Right then," Gavin said, reaching into his pocket rather further than he should have been able to. He had lifted his jacket up so he could fit his arm in to the shoulder, but it simply dissappeared. "I have your school issued supplies here... somewhere," he said rummaging around in his mystically cavernous pocket. "You'll need to visit a wizarding market to get the rest, but I can help you with that." He grinned. "Aha! There's the pesky thing," he said, drawing a small wooden chest from his pocket. He pushed it across the table to Alan. Hands shaking slightly, he flipped the brass latch holding the case shut, and opened it. The first thing he saw inside, atop a fold of fabric, was a small, shield-shaped badge the color of charcoal, with a prominant 'A' emblazoned on it in an assortment of different metals. "That," Gavin said as Alan lifted it out of the package. "Is your academy badge. Aside from your wand, it's the most important thing you'll bring to the academy. It tallies the points you and your dorm earn, it allows you to use the various password locks around the school, and most importantly, it sorts you into your dorm in the first place."

Alan stared at the small metal plate. "How?"

"Magic," Gavin said, smiling. He pointed out a small button on the back of the badge. "Whenever you're ready, just click it. Then we'll find out where you belong." Alan looked around, first at his father who was doing a terrible job of hiding his curiosity behind a stern mask, then at his mother who looked as though she was trying to decide just how worried she was, and then at Gavin who was simply smiling expectantly.

He focused his eyes on the tiny badge between his fingers, the metallic A silently beckoning him to take the plunge.

CLICK.

Author's Note: First off, I'm not giving time estimates anymore. I keep missing them and bullshitting you guys is just disrespectful. Secondly, I'm almost caught up on Legend of Korra, so New Worlds will resume soon. I'l likely be alternating updates. Thirdly, several people has asked me what takes me so long to update. The fact of the matter is that my fanfics are far from my top priority. Between the novel I'm devoting the bulk of my writing time to and trying to find a job in this shriveled wasteland of an economy, the fics tend to fall to the wayside. All I can offer is the solemn oath that I will never let my fics die. I started these stories and hell or high water they will be ended properly.

Thanks for reading!

-EtherealParagon


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